


Ascencia

by Cheer_The_Underdog_On



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/F, F/M, High Fantasy, High priest au, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Rewrite, Romance, end game ganon/link
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheer_The_Underdog_On/pseuds/Cheer_The_Underdog_On
Summary: They had been so caught up in the game they were playing against each other, that by the time they'd realized what had happened, it was too late.But Link, Link had seen from the beginning. He would have to die so they all could live.





	1. Chapter 1

The two of them look out from the sacred room of Zelda’s temple to the crumbling ruins that stand unyielding on the cliff of the mountain. The unwalked stone steps that carve the way there through glistening red rock are serpentine and steep. Those stairs were once the grounds of many prestigious trials for the priest that had bound themselves by virtue and vow to the Goddess of Courage. But the two vessels know this. They are forced to sift through these memories many times and think about how the vessels of the past have failed  **_her_ ** . How dare the two of them in their squabbles leave her to defend herself?

 

“But it wasn't us.” Zelda says in her wisdom to Ganon who normally a man of stone peers out across the city they rule together in waves of melancholy.

 

“It wasn't us.” He repeats to the vessel of the Goddess that had long been his enemy. Their selective patrons have since put aside their differences as tribute to the fallen on the hill. “I am well aware, Zelda. To believe either of us would be so foolish is arrogant is blasphemous in itself, and coming from anyone else, I would strike them down.”

 

But his mouth is not his own and Din forces her voice through his resistant gritting teeth, “I apologize, Sister. The vessel speaks out of turn.”

 

And it is Zelda’s turn to move as a puppet, “Quite fine, Sister. Not all of us can have one as obedient as this.” The blonde priestess blushes in shame, covering her mouth.  _ Take it as a compliment,  _ Nayru tells her within the privacy of her own head, voice as soft as down. Not even their thoughts are their own.

 

Din ‘hmphs’ to herself, but her vessel is an extension of all of her to the most a human can be. It would only make sense that Ganon be so willful as to snark against the Goddess that owns him. Owns him, he wants to rip himself from the claim, but it is  _ true. I own you,  _ she reminds him. Her voice is steel and fire,  _ and for it you are stronger than any other mortal may dream to be.  _ He lives as a God on Earth. They are bodies for the essence of the celestial realm and they are  _ lucky  _ to be a testament to that power.

 

The two are silent as the sun sets over the hem of the land, and the moonlight shines bathing them in gentle forgiveness. “Another day then, High Priestess. As always, thank you for the company.” None other than her can understand the burden of being a High Priest, yet Ganon’s voice cleaves their visit and he turns to take his leave.

 

“Ganon,” She whispers as he is at the door.  He finds himself turning to watch her fragile back shake as he stills like a deer in the forest to the noise of her sob, “Ganon, I see her in my dreams. It hurts. It hurts so much.”

 

His mouth flinches into a snarl as if she is the only one who sees the image of the vessel of Farore crumpled to the floor blood hallowing her broken skull. Her eyes stared towards the heaven she’d never see from failing to complete her Ascensia. The perpetrators had long hung from the arches of Ganon’s temple only being released from their chains during the last two vessels. The bleached bones had faced the justice of the sun for two hundred years, and it still wasn't enough. Din slams his mouth shut before he can say anything that could be a sword that would cut through the peace accords between the two sisters. Sun and Earth, they are as different as two people can be, and with no way to release his frustration at Zelda’s selfish suffering, he walks away.

 

High Priest of Power, he is escorted by his private guard back to the temple. They walk to the base of the pyramid where his followers might see him in his sweeping red and gold robes. He graces them, answering a few prayers. Not all power is bad. The power to withstand things that one cannot change, and the power to rise when all weighs down. That is who he is. The Great Hall of Power is closing as a bell rings behind him by one of his priests, and he thanks the Goddeses it is night for he is exhausted. 

 

Retreating to his private sacred room, he groans as he collapses on the lush feathered bed. No human can see that he is merely a man. Zelda only knows because she too is only released by duty in the tip of her obelisk. Her private window is circled by a carving of the sun. It serves as a reminder to the people if they see her there that she is a Goddess looking down on them. The outer tip of the obelisk is coated in rose gold while the white marble makes up the rest of the building. Ganon thinks it is a bit garish, but maybe he is not one to speak with yellow ore and granite making up his private palace of a pyramid. He wonders what the old temple of Farore looked like in its prime. He has past memories from the lives of the previous vessels, but those fairly compared with the vibrancy of his own life. He knows she loved green. And she loved wood and water as well. She had marked herself as silver blue and green in the robes she wore, and it had been so soft against Zelda’s royal blue and yellow and his red and black.

 

He writes a little bit of this in his journal and reads a bit of the journals of the old High Priests. These sacred texts are private to only the vessel, and with good reason, they speak greatly of how desperately Din sought the love of Farore in violent competition with Nayru. Nayru had won many, many of the battles in conquest of romance against the corporeal form of Farore. Only twice had Din’s vessels triumphed, but those vessels had been different than many of the men and women Din normally selected. Many of the past priests speak of Nayru’s subtle gloating and their personal anguish, but none of that matters now. Both Din and Nayru have had to move on. A hard thing to do with the image of their failure so… haunting.

 

Din quivers in her grief and as so, does he. Who would dare be such a cretin as to harm the purest of them all? Her body had been disfigured as if Demise had aimed to rip her very soul from her.

 

_ I would never let that happen to us. _ Ganon thinks.  _ She was weak. _

 

_ We loved her. _ Din reminds him.  _ She never saw love as a weakness. _

 

_ It blinded her. _ Ganon growls,  _ It blinded you. _

 

He can feel Din freeze, and he expects his punishment. He expects the pain, but it doesn't come. It doesn't come as he readies himself for bed. It doesn't come as he is falling asleep. It never comes. Only the breaking voice of recognition at his challenge arrives.

 

_ Maybe you’re right, but maybe that wasn't love. _

 

She is getting soft after four thousand years, Ganon thinks sadly to himself.

 

~~~

 

Zelda wakes in the middle of the night and pads to the open window to shut it. After relieving her bladder in the chamber pot, she thinks about what Ganon’s visit had meant that day. Din prefers men as her vessels. They'd always been the sex of human she relates with more. Zelda can easily see that through her memories. They had a vibrant energy that Din favors. Nayru does not particularly care as gender has nothing to do with wisdom, although, Zelda thinks haughtily to herself as she looks out the window onto the city she rules along with Ganon: neither does power.

 

Farore had loved women though. She had many reasons why. It took courage to sacrifice your life to have a child. It took courage to resist against the power of men who wielded it wrongly. It took courage to love openly and speak of emotion. Zelda thinks with a sigh, what it would have been like to have her as a lover...

 

The vessels aren't forbidden from bedding other humans, and actually Din encourages it. She likes them as trophies of sexual prowess. Nayru doesn’t care. She worries more about romance and a meeting of the minds. Farore had given her love freely, but her body to none except one of the other vessels. That's just how she was.

 

Had been.

 

Fuck, Zelda swears silently to herself. Both her and Ganon get like this each year around the time of her death. The Vessel of Power during Farore’s death had been one of the few that had beaten out Nayru for Farore’s hand. Although, Zelda reflects, it had helped that the vessel of Din then had been a young handsome man and Farore a young woman. Nayru’s vessel had been nearing Ascencia. 

 

Ascencia: neither her nor Ganon were near it now. The ceremony was only performed near the death of a vessel. They would walk to the sacred holy site where the Goddesses had first created the land and send their soul to the celestial heaven. Humans in their normal deaths were just recycled, but a vessel had their soul removed to eternal bliss. It was the reward for serving the Goddesses. It was the reward for giving them a body that could taste, touch, hear, smell,  _ feel _ things.

 

But Farore had not ascended leaving the two goddesses alone.

 

_ No _ , Nayru corrects,  _ we left her.  _ The day before that scarring night, her future vessel had challenged Din’s for Farore’s hand. 

 

And Zelda is forced to remember.

 

She is Sira, but this is Sira before she is a vessel. She watches Yaro, her mentor who is nearing Ascencia put down his book. Simultaneously, Zelda can feel both their memories. Yaro is apprehensive. He has lectured Sira many times that her desire for Christa, Farore, has blinded her. She has become brash wanting to have what she cannot, and the wise thing to do would be to cover her eyes and ignore Lee, Din, but she will not. 

 

Lee is young and handsome, and Sira is not yet a vessel. She can make no move towards Christa, but every day she grows closer to being Nayru, the further Christa moves away from her towards Lee. 

 

Zelda bites her tongue as she looks out across the city. The temples all look the same in her memories. She can feel the smooth, cold stone. She can taste the fresh water as Sira drinks from a clay jar in the night. Her footsteps patter in the cobbled streets as she makes her way to Christa. She looks at the bamboo floors as they creak beneath her. The springs behind her still bubble as they do in the day and perhaps they cover the sound of her feet. When she slides open the door to Christa's room, the sight she finds shatters her. 

 

“Lee.”

 

There is Christa splayed out in bliss beneath him as his strong body continues to move as if Sira is not even there. She had seen none of his private guard that would have tipped her off to his presence, and it appears that he had a similar idea to her. He was just quicker in executing it. 

 

Christa sits up to cover herself, and only then does Lee pointedly pull out, but makes no motion to cover himself, “Go home, Sira.” He commands, and as a High Priest, she must listen to him. “You aren't a vessel. You aren't our equal yet. Why can you not understand that?” 

 

“I do understand that.” She whispers, the wind moving through garden causing her hair to tickle her cheek, “Which is why I request Christa doesn't marry you until I challenge you in combat as a vessel.  Yaro’s Ascencia grows near, and I will gladly duel you.”

 

Christa finally speaks, “You are both fools. I am not a thing to be won. Sira, I have already made my choice.”

 

“No,” Lee smirks, “Let her have this as our future sister, Christa. I accept. The day after you become a vessel, I challenge you in combat for Christa’s hand.”

 

The days pass, Zelda pushes through the mundane, until she sees the battle. She hears the exact moment where she knew Sira saw all of her horrible decisions lines up in front of her. She sees the reflection of the sun in the glint of Lee's sword, and hears the bell that signifies the start of the battle. The crowd roars around them. Both temples and the population of the city is there in their colosseum. Yet their cheering is not what echoes. It is the bell.

 

And that was when Demise had attacked. 

 

Her and Ganon had both played it over and over again in their minds. The footsteps on broken wooden floors. The fire roaring all around them down the mountain side as smoke billowed up. Their private guards are begging them to go for their own safety but not until they see her. Not until they know.

 

The springs are filled with bodies of priests leaking blood that had turned the soft grasses of temple to mud and the stench of death causes Sira to gag and vomit as she sees Christa splayed out like a broken statue. She is in two pieces, but glued together by her own fluids.

 

Zelda has to turn her mind away from that to happier things. Happier times.

 

_ We were horrible to her in the end. _ Nayru grows distant and wistful.  _ It was all just a horrible game between me and Din, and we never realized the cost. We both wanted her so badly. We could never see Demise. _

 

Zelda shivers; the window is closed, but she is so cold. She puts her tired mind to rest and prays for forgiveness to Farore. 

 

An unheard prayer to the empty void. 

 

~~~

 

One day, when Zelda is in Ganon’s private chambers having lunch, she asks him, “Why don't we go to her temple?” It as if she is asking him to go out to eat. He is considering his move in their board game, and looks up.

 

Ganon grunts. His room still smells like the perfume of the woman he'd had in here before Zelda. He and the blonde across from him had tried once in a fit of drunken madness at the summer solstice festival, but that had been a few years ago. He was glad because the two of them had been an awkward mess, not compatible in the least. He could never be with her in that way again, and he easily filled his time with devout priestesses that hid behind that label instead of concubine. The thought causes a visceral reaction of disgust as he sorts through his own thoughts again as he looks at her. It wasn't as if she wasn't beautiful. He inspects her with a bored leer: light copper skin and sun kissed white hair. She has light blue eyes. Her father had been a foreigner, and her mother had sacrificed her to the temple to repent for her sins. It was a strange contrast to him and his pure blood. His skin was rich as black coffee. His bright hazel eyes sharp and cunning. Long thick hair in that of a rose color was braided down his back. Her fragile frame suited her as an academic. His was the body of a warrior. He has already fathered many children, he thinks smugly, a mark of his virility. As it should be.

 

“Stop thinking about your cock for one moment and focus.” She huffs. It wasn't hard to know where his head was at when she can see women's undergarments piled on the floor next to his bed in the other room. There occasionally was the faint yawn of a woman perhaps waiting for him to come back to bed as well. He should really learn to close the door, she thinks spitefully.  “Should we go to her temple this year during the remembrance ceremony?”

 

Ganon grunts again. “There is nothing to go to, dear Sister. The forest was burned as was the temple. The spring is still polluted. All of the riches ransacked. I’d prefer to simply visit her grave and not the sight of my failure to protect her.”

 

“I was her’s many more times than you were. It was my duty to protect her.” Nayru huffs.

 

The tension begins to rise as he feels Din about to speak and Ganon slams his palm on the wooden table and the dishes rattle, “Stop.” He commands all of them. “How dare all four of us squabble about her death like children with a doll more than we celebrate what memories we have of Her? Were you three not happy once?” He directs at Din and Nayru, “You did not give yourself human bodies without thinking of their follies, did you? You knew this day might come! I will not go to see the place where her life was taken for her. I will not commemorate her life on the grounds were her privacy of body and soul were stripped from her. You may go-” He directs to Zelda, “Wherever you wish, but I will be at her grave.” The only grave there had ever been for a High Priest or Priestess. 

 

“Nayru, I agree with my vessel.” Din’s voice pours like wine from Ganon's panting mouth from his display of emotion, “I will not march with him up those stairs.”

 

Zelda has had a change of heart as well, but she feels her body leave her grasp, “Sister, you will be able to find me on the mountain top.” Nayru evokes her edict.

 

And a single solitary tear slips from frozen blue eyes.

 

~~~

Ganon has been to the foreigner's lands a few times. He has sailed to see how went their attempts at converting the people of snow away from Ordon, their false god of tricks. He has also been to the Barbarian Lands where they spoke different tongues. They knew of the Goddesses, but they worshipped Demise. Zelda wonders how these people can't see clearly that Demise is leading them astray. To be against the Goddesses who were true and just was a battle one could not win. Yet they'd waged on in their wars of conquest and converts for many years. Only since Farore had been killed had both sides laid down their arms. The two High Priests had to do what was right for the people when personally they'd both like to slaughter every one of these piggish people.

 

Farore had been the one to originally seek the death of Ordon. She said he and Demise were the same. He hid behind different names to fool them, so he could attack them from any side and pull into chaos the paradise they had created in Hyrule. He would come for them, she'd promised, and she’d been right. Ganon looks up at the statue of the man that was the face of Ordon. His features were vague as if he could be a woman or a man. “That is the point.” One of the clan leaders from the snow people says honestly at their peace talks, “He is to represent everyone of us: man or woman.”

 

Ganon has to resist a sneer as Zelda takes over. The food had been thick with dairy, something the two of them rarely ate. These people look so small and soft compared to the two of them and their private guards and priests. A life in the desert had sculpted them into strong, lean people. “But if you know the Goddesses are real, why will you not worship them and stick to Ordon?”

 

“Ordon is real.” The man says again with certainty, “I have seen him with my own eyes. A man that never ages. A face that never changes. He has helped all of us time and time again. He is able to move through the veil with his bag of magic.”

 

Demise, that was for sure. The evil magician sought to destroy the triforce. Farore had warned them that if they encountered him he'd be strong and was most likely using a human vessel as well. He seemed to move fast between here and the Barbarian Lands as all of them saw the People of the Sun, as they were called, as enemies. Zelda sighs in exhaustion, turning to Ganon whose voice booms in the small room like thunder. “If we are the People of the Sun, we are the light, are we not?”

 

The next phrase had marked their exit under new threat of war, “The sun is the one that casts shadow is it not. Our Ordon does not claim to be up high.”

 

Ganon really hates the snow.

~~~ 

Zelda combs the library that makes up her temple tower to find what she is looking for. She loves romance novels and science books. Sadly, she couldn't Ganon to read anything even if she threatened him. He says he did a lot of reading as a doctor’s son, and he’s too tired for all of those stuffy studies for now. 

 

Her obelisk is surrounded by the university where all the professors are priests. She is happy to help the people of Hyrule become the best versions of themselves. She loves being of help and talking with her followers because she is so, so lonely. 

 

A princess at the top of her tower, she wonders if Ganon can see her. The image of her alone above them all is frighteningly true, and she wishes that there was a way for her to come down from the clouds and join them all on earth. Ganon at least had his troops, but she knew he felt much the same. Being a vessel seemed like the luckiest life when she'd been on the outside looking in, but now she saw it for what it was. Lonely.

 

It was so truly lonely. 

 

She has gathered all her materials on Demise because the winter solstice is coming, and where the three sisters are strongest during the summer, the magic she can only assume to be his drifts like a fog through their city. She never knows if it truly affects anyone. She doesn't actually know all that much about his magic other than it is very different from Nayru and Din’s. It's foreign, but it feels like the language of childhood. If it wasn't for what she knew his true intentions were, she could almost believe the followers of Demise and Odin. Almost, but there is always the night of Farore’s fall to anchor her to reality.

 

Nayru has only met Demise once, but she can't remember his face. The more she struggles to, the more she sees her own. He is like a mirror. In fact, when that vessel, Canna, and him had met, he had not even known who he was. He must have been mocking him because he was so friendly sitting in the courtyard, talking to him under the shade of the tree as only two strangers would. He was strange. He was drinking tea from a kettle and wore green like a follower of Farore but had strange sigils stitched in gold. When asked about, he’d only laughed and offered Canna some tea. He politely refused.

 

Canna thinks he could fall in love with a man like this. He was so intellectual the way he talked about the realm and foreign lands. He must have been an excellent explorer; he shows the redheaded man many tokens from far off lands. He even gives him the most beautiful dragon scales, “Wear them, the color compliments your skin.”

 

Zelda still has that bracelet, she blushes at the thought. It was tucked away somewhere with many other of the vessel’s past belongings. She keeps exploring that memory, but as she does, she feels like a...like there's a wrinkle in the film of her thoughts.

 

The blond is still talking as he sips his tea. She can see his lips moving, but can hear no voice until the memory burns up inside her head and she screams out in pain falling from her ladder against the bookshelf with dead weight. 

 

Her followers rush to her and when reaching for her splayed books, the pages are completely blank except for wet, red letters.

 

_ It's not nice to intrude. _

 

_ ~~~ _

 

Ganon looks at the letters now dry. Zelda has her arm in a sling and is sulking. “What were you doing?”

 

“I was thinking of the time Canna met Ordon. They were just talking. Talking and I think flirting. The conversation took a turn to being private, and he must have known that someone was looking in. Or the memory was bewitched or something. I don't know. He burned the memory up. I can't access it at all now, and when he did that, I fell.” Her eyes are a bit teary as Ganon simply nods.

 

“What do you remember next?” He asks.

 

“Just Canna showing the dragon scales to Delra, Farore, and her telling him that they were cursed. Given to him by Demise. Canna kept them, though. They're a bracelet now. I still have it; although it's horrible out of fashion.” She says as an afterthought, getting up to go get it. The wooden box she keeps it in is in a small storage room. Retrieving it, she brings back the box and offers it to Ganon who opens it. 

 

She was right. It was horribly out of fashion. He picks it up and looks at it with historic interest. “I too have only a few memories of Demise.”

 

“Memories? Plural?” She asks.

 

“Oh, I'm sure you have more. Comb the past. Look at your odd trinkets. They're all enchanted. Even this one is to fortify you against aging. You'll stay beautiful longer. I kind of want it.” He laughs, giving it back to her before pulling out a particular necklace for her to draw her eyes to against his broad, dark chest. “He gave me this one. Let's me understand foreign tongues easier. Gave it to Vashna, one of the few female vessels, and said it was for her once she started traveling. That was the vessel that moved from Creitia. It came in handy.”

 

He thinks a bit, “I have never had this happen to my memories. What was your intent when looking in?”

 

She purses her lips, “To gather information and perhaps find a weakness for him.”

 

“Ah, then I am not surprised you stumbled on something that might poison your mind.” Ganon stands, walking to her window, “He has never visited either you or me as an enemy. Only Farore. He told another me once that he does not wish to fight us. He loves us. Perhaps in the way a jealous man loves a woman he can't have as we have always looked towards Farore.” He sighs, “He met Xelm once. I can't remember what he looks like. We never can other than he is a person of the snow. Xelm was young then and Ordon challenged him to a duel.” Ganon smiles, it was an odd, but...fond memory. Xelm had been the vessel before him and a bit of a father figure. “He gave Xelm a gift as well.” Ganon pulled back his vest a bit to show her the two gold barbells through his nipples, “For the ladies. That's all he said. It would help Xelm find those with pure intentions.” He couldn't help as a laugh snuck past him.

 

Zelda frowns, “I'm glad you're so happy with him but lest you forget, Brother,-”

 

Ganon stops her with a glare, “I never do, Sister. I just warn you against threatening a vessel that can slip past and charm even us. Farore was the only one who could ever detect him.” The two stare at each other until the game becomes tiring for Ganon, “Goodnight, Sister.” He says quietly, taking his leave and the bracelet with him.

 

“Goodnight.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Ganon is right. The more she combs her closet and the heirlooms. The more memories unlock. He does not visit every vessel, not even every five, but each time he does, he comes with a story and a gift. He talks to each vessel as a friend. She finally realizes that Demise does not have multiple vessels. He has incarnated himself into a human body that doesn't age. His hands and body are always the same, but the face, the face, she can never see his face. Ganon doesn't think it matters. He wants to meet Demise, “Although when he comes, I'm sure I won't even recognize him.” He frowns as she helps him prepare his temple for the remembrance festival. Last year, she had celebrated it up on the mountain, this time they will be together giving a speech in the town square. They still need to set the altars right, and it was an excuse to hang out.

 

She thinks it's a bit odd that the remembrance falls almost exactly two weeks past the spring equinox. Farore should have been almost at her most powerful and him nearing his weakest. Yet… She shivers. “I kind of want to move the capital back to Creitia.” She states out of the blue, and it's a strange enough thing to say that Ganon squints. “I just think,” She begins to justify, “That this city has too many bad memories.”

 

“Why Creitia, though? We left that place for a reason.” He busies himself with some tassels as he listens. “We could move somewhere newer.”

 

“I like that city. I like the forest.” She murmurs, “It reminds me of-”

 

“That is exactly why we should not go back.” His voice shakes her from her foolishness, “No, no, if we are to move on. Let us go to the meadows of the mountains. Let us move to the grassy fields and streams.”

 

“But you hate the snow.”

 

“I could learn to love it. Closer to the sun, are we not? More power. Plus, we could make a new fortress on the forefront of our borders with the people of the snow.”

 

“Avachella could barely support us if we moved.”

 

“So we do not move the whole temple. Just the private guard and leave a few high priests in charge. We come to check in twice a year. We take the orphans and a few priests to take care of them, and we enjoy ourselves for one or two lifetimes.” He grins at her, “You're so wrapped up in tradition, Zelda. Give yourself to pleasure for once.”

 

“I did.” She looks frankly at him, “And you were quite the disappointment.”

 

Ganon acts as if he has been shot in the heart by an arrow, “Oh you wound me. Try another man, then.” He rips the arrow out, “You and I are not cut for each other, and that is okay. We both knew that.” He is a bit sad that it was such a disappointing time for her first experience, but… she needed someone much smaller than him. He was built like a horse (in more ways that one) all power and strength, and she was graceful and arcane in her beauty. She needed someone more her size. They had...definitely learned that.

 

“Perhaps I will. I'll begin research and try again. I'm sure if I just read more, it will go better next time.” She decides this, motivated.

 

“There you go, you wild girl. You'll become a heartbreaker to rival me.” He laughs feeling especially human. 

 

_ We’re still watching.  _

 

Oh hush, he thinks. You always are.

 

~~~

 

The city is celebrating, and visitors from all parts of the country have travelled to the City of the Goddesses to remember Farore and her priests. An effigy of Christa acting in place of Farore is raised in town square and decorated in flowers. The best of the fruit, jewelry, and more is laid in front of her to be divided between Din and Nayru after the remembrance. Link looks up at a version of himself and pushes down the memories of that face. He is trying to think of what he needs to do for Farore.

 

He had gone to the old Ascencia sight, but it had since moved. The triforce’s magic was no longer there, so he was forced to come and talk to Din or Nayru. This Mediterranean city was massive, and not something a small village boy like him was used to. He had been trying to avoid this outcome the most. The market overwhelms him with the smell of spices. The footsteps of people are all around him along with pigs and chickens running through the streets. Voices are loud, so loud, and his heart races nervously as he thinks of the sisters. All he remembers of them is their bickering, and in his weakened, sunburnt state, he doesn't think he can handle them tugging on him in both directions. Nayru seems a bit less hot headed than Din, but her sister brings out the worst in her.

 

_ Thank you,  _ Farore’s voice is faint and so far away. It's like an echo in his head.  _ For doing as I asked. I asked so many vessels before you to come. _

 

Link frowns. Of course those women hadn't wanted to make a seven week trip across the country by foot. They had something to lose. His hand floats to his mouth. His tongue is aching in his throat. He had nothing left to lose.  _ How am I to tell them that I'm you if I have no voice?  _

 

_ Your piece of the triforce is on your hand. Be brave for me once again, Link. _

 

He weaves through the crowded streets of beautiful dark people. The people of the capital look so different from the people of his village. He knows they view him similar to the foreigners and barbarians, although it is unspoken. He approaches the base of the obelisk that serves as the Library of Wisdom, and he looks for a great priest. There seem to be none on the floor accessible to the public. He needs to talk to Nayru’s vessel, and although he cannot write, Farore guides his hand so that a scrap of paper can at least serve him in her task.  _ Farore’s vessel requests audience with Nayru. _ He waits for several moments and sees the stairs that the temple priests are floating up and down streaming into the library for their studies.

 

_ Link, I cannot protect you if you force your way up those stairs.  _ She warns him. Although, he is quite able to protect himself.

 

Tapping his foot a bit in thought, the dusty grey cloth of his toga causes his skin to itch. All of his exposed milky flesh is red from the sun. He'd crossed the desert road by foot to get here.  _ I know. But it may be the only way. If I'm caught, I'll be closer than being on the outside or waiting until she comes to answer a few prayers. _

 

The library is large and busy. There are a few gaps in traffic as the priests exit or disappear up the polished steps. The shelves around him smell of arid woods. Pine, he thinks offhandedly. The pages of books leave a lingering perfume in the air. The ink is almost something he can taste on his tongue. He wishes he could read, but he doesn't need to in this life. There were many things he will never get to do in this life. Perhaps if he had been given more time… No. It didn't matter.

 

He's not thinking straight in his exhaustion, but being in Nayru’s dungeon, if shocking enough a claim, might force her to come see him. He is purposefully caught going up the stairs by a guard who grabs him by the front of his shirt, “That is sacred ground. How dare a peasant such as yourself dare to walk it?” He hisses. His breath stinks of fish and a bit of his afternoon bread. His skin is so dark compared to Link. They wear their hair the same. His hair is a rich red brown. The guard is calming down when he realizes Link is not struggling and the blond passes him the slip of paper and shows him the back of his left hand.

 

The man laughs on him and spits on his face, enraged once more, “Get out of here. The priests do not have time for the cruel jokes of a lunatic. You'd do well to never make such a claim again or risk being held in contempt of the High Priestess. Be gone. I’m taking mercy upon you since a simpleton such as yourself must be sick from the sun.” He wrenches Link's arm and guides him swiftly through the library, throwing him out into the red sun baked brick street. People are staring at him, and Link blushes shamefully in his embarrassment now nursing his screaming wrist as he stumbles to his feet to begin walking to Din’s temple. There is a crowd in the plaza, and Link skirts the edge to avoid it. There seems to be someone speaking. A man’s voice like a lion’s roar underneath the high sun. As he thinks on stopping, Farore rings into him again.

 

_ Please do not blame my sister for her guards.  _

 

Link doesn't respond for a second as he pants. I could never blame your sisters, he tells her. He's too thirsty, tired, hungry to respond again, so he marches on. He's angry now too. He hasn't had food in two days. He'd used his last coin crossing the ferry to this side of the Hylian River. It would be nice for at least someone to listen to the truth. Din’s public area is cool and underground acting as an oasis of shade. He relishes in the relief from the sun, and carries his small scrap of paper like a torch to one of the guards to pass it off.

 

Okay, he'd been pretty sure his wrist had been sprained when he was thrown out into the street, but this. This must be broken. He looks to his wrist which is swelling and turning an ugly purple. The room stinks of piss and hay. It was a small prison of only three cells. He is the only one here.  _ That's because Din sentences her prisoners to the death if I do not stop her. _

 

Oh. Good news then. He leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. This was the only way. At least Din would have to look at him during his execution and if he dies….well, he is always going to die no matter the outcome of this life.

 

Ganon looks at the scrap of paper and feels his mirth boiling over as he returns to the temple. “A man brought this in, you say?” He asks the captain of the guard. They’d had a few imposters in the past try to make the same claim, but he and Zelda knew on sight. They would always be able to recognize their third against a crazed human. He rips the thing in half and sends the woman in his arm away as he tears for the stairs with barely restrained strides. He is disheveled from his speech, but how dare, how dare someone make a claim so disrespectful on the eve of her death. He is going to have this person quartered. Nay, he will have this person crushed by stones. He ignores his guards claims that it is not worth his time as he rushes down to the prison. He might choke the crazy untouchable himself. How dare some simple blond barbarian claim to be The goddess Farore herself? The key ring jingles in his hand as the prisoner, a foreigner confirmed, is spooked awake. Blond hair covers his face, but it is a man, and Farore would never accept such a lowly creature as her vessel. Ganon kneels over him before the weakened prisoner can rise and squeezes that pale small throat. 

 

Until he sees those eyes and his whole body throws itself away as Farore gasps for air desperately thrashing to stay alive. Ganon’s body is a live wire with the amount of energy coursing through him. His skin is electric from touching the other vessel. A man. She is a man. She is alive. “Oh, Din above.” He curses in shock looking at his hands, “Farore, I didn't know. I didn't know. I'm sorry.” He has never felt such immense shame, and this is Din’s shame. A shame out of such intense failure that Ganon has never felt before as a vessel. There is an instant instinct to treat this man as he would...a wife? A husband? And he has tried to kill this fragile person. He resolves in that moment that he would lay down his life so no one ever lays another hand on the blond.

 

The other vessel says nothing, and Ganon fears he's crushed the man's throat. He sweeps the blond hair away as the pale skinned foreigner flinches away from him. He cringes at that, cursing internally again. The skin of the pale man is red and blistering from the sun. White marks becoming disgusting bruises remain in the wake of his fingers. He had probably almost crushed his windpipe if he had not seen the man’s eyes.

 

Unbelieving, the realization comes to him that this is Farore’s vessel. He'd been so caught up in his crime of passion that he hasn't acknowledged the impossibility of her being here...and as a man no less. He looks at the other as he would look at his property.The foreigner has a strong lithe build underneath the filthy tunic. Delicate features that would not suggest one way or another if he was man nor woman were hidden under layers of dust and sweat. If Farore was to pick a man, it made sense that she would pick this one. “I'm sorry. I was just...so irate that someone would claim to be you. We've had other charlatans in the past.” He strokes the man's shoulders gently, “Forgive me. I beg of you: forgive me. I would never knowingly hurt you.” He hates the way his voice sounds coming out of his mouth. These aren't his words. They're under the influence of Din who craves Farore as one does water after being in the desert. Her emotion taints his heart, and he wants to do everything in his power to please Din so his mind might be clear for a moment again 

 

Blue eyes take in all of him and this small man nods sensing that Ganon is truthful in his voyage to forgiveness. The large man heaves a sigh of relief and it is like watching a landslide the way his strong shoulders move. “Come. Let's get you a bath. Let's get you fed.” He notices the way Link is cradling his wrist, “And perhaps a doctor.”

 

It is after they have left the prison that Ganon is forced to say with his heart his own, “You may be angry with me, but do not refuse to speak to me. It will help nothing. We are...connected. In a way, I doubt you fully understand.” Link bristles at the words. This man views him as uneducated and simple. Perhaps he was right, but he should never say that. Where was his tact? Link continues to walk beside him silently and he senses as Ganon begins to anger. A hand on his shoulder stops the redhead’s temper as the blond turns to him and opens his mouth wide so Ganon might see.

 

No tongue. They had cut out his tongue. The primary way Nayru dealt with imposters And heretics was visible in evidence of a stub of muscle in the blond’s pink mouth. But this injury is old, and it breaks Ganon’s heart, “You went to other temples for help, didn’t you? And….Nayru, her priests didn’t believe you and punished you?” Link nods slowly, rubbing his aching jaw. They'd almost yanked it from the socket when they'd forced open his mouth. It still clicks when he chews.

 

“And yet you still came to a place where you knew that you might die? I'm sure Farore warned you that Din’s vessels are...of the dangerous sort.” He doesn't want to paint himself a killer, but he knows the desire to take a life as one knows a well worn coat. Link nods; Ganon chuckles a bit to himself, “I’d say you were a fool, but I suppose sometimes that and courage are easily confused.” He already has servants fetching everything this vessel might need. The question was what he might need first. “What is your name, Vessel? Might you write it out for me?”

 

He cannot write.  _ Farore, move my hand, so he might know? Please do not let me remain nameless.  _ He had already given her his voice. When they reach the sacred room, he shows Ganon his name and the man pauses, “Link?” He pronounces it incorrectly to the blond’s accent, so he shakes his head no until Ganon gets it correct. Looking around the room, it is...bold in taste. He remembers this room from a few of his past lives, and when he opens the door to his pasts, it overwhelms him. Every inch of this room is nostalgia. The small kitchen and warming fire. The wooden table with three seats. The rugs of colors that bleeds reds, yellows, greens and blues woven together. The window seat with the purple cushion. He remembers that the most. He remembers the last life the freshest. The last vessel of Din had sat with him there many times. Ganon had been his husband or her husband….it all gets so confusing. He approaches Ganon who thinks the man smells greatly of the street but remains without comment as Link picks his left hand and points to his empty ring finger and then to him. “I am your husband?” Link nods and Ganon tenses, “Not in this life, no.” It seemed that this vessel did not have a very strong grip on the separation of lives which meant he was closer to Farore and more powerful. The goddesses tried to stray away from picking vessels with weak personalities though. If they did, the goddesses had a tendency to consume the vessel’s personality entirely which was unfair to the human they resided in. In the worst cases, they might even burn up the body from strain as well.

 

“Bathe.” Ganon orders before the blond can touch anything else and leave his commoner stench upon it. “The water is in my room. I will remain here to grant you privacy. Take your time. I am having food and drink prepared for you.” 

 

When Link slips away into his room, Ganon calls for one of his guardsmen, “Send message to the High Priestess that she must come here immediately. Tell her it is of life and death. The highest importance.” The guardsman nods and takes off down the hall, now a messenger for the goddesses. He will run until he finds Zelda, greeting her and sharing the word. “They say the boy is Goddess of Courage’s vessel.” He finishes, and the report she had gotten this morning about the heretic suddenly clicks.

 

_ She came knocking at our doors, and we failed to let her in. _ Nayru laments, forgetting all of the falsified claims of the past.

 

She is safe, Zelda reminds her Goddess, and I'm sure she wants to come home here. Ganon’s place is no home for a weakened, scared little boy. Ganon’s place teetered frequently between being a whore house or a bachelor's mess. Din had buried her vessels in sex after Farore’s death while Nayru had focused on her work. Truly they all dealt with grief differently.

 

But now it was time to deal with the responsibility of their actions.

  
Zelda is terrified.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta @ittybittyhorrorsilly on tumblr

They stare at each other blankly for a moment until Link sniffles and takes a long sip of water. It is dark outside, but that doesn’t stop Zelda or her private guard from storming across the city leaving the stars breathless above them to keep up. Ganon’s inner room is illuminated with flickering candlelight. Link is clean now, dressed in soft greens and silvers. His hair drip dries on his shoulders as his  bandaged wrist leads to a hand holding a bitten apple. Juice sticky and sweet settles on his chin, and Ganon watches him with bewilderment before he turns to Zelda, “Sister.” He addresses her, “This is Link, and he is mute.”

 

Her voice, hoarse, emerges, “I was told he was a boy. He is not a boy.” She looks at him. He needs a haircut.

 

Ganon  glances back at Link . He is small and slender compared to the men in their city, but she is right, the blond is no boy. “My guards must have spread that rumor. I will address who it was as my recompense.” Couldn't have messengers who didn’t know when to keep sensitive information to the two people it involved. “I can tell you now, he won't go over well with the people.” He knows that for fact with both Zelda’s and his followers. A foreigner being their Goddess would be  taken as well as telling them that they wanted to move the temples to another city. It was ludicrous. He'd be better off trying to pull the sun from the sky.

 

“But he is Farore.” Zelda asks again to confirm. She already knows that he is Farore. There is magic in the air so thick that she feels she's swallowing sand. The strings of fate between the three of them are so intertwined and tangled up that she feels blanketed by it all. Link continues to sip his water as if he's not there, letting them argue out his fate.

 

“He is.” Ganon grunts, “But only by technicality.”

 

“There is no technicality in being a vessel, Ganon.” She says softly.

 

“I will not accept him.” The words are the sound of a whip cracking, and she gapes a bit. To not accept their long lost third...it wasn't as if they could exile him until the Farore returned as someone else. Din and Nayru are already shouting like children to get what they want, but the two ignore them. Link moves on to eating the bread and cheese that are on the plate in front of him. Even if he could speak, there was nothing he could say to assuage them of this situation. He has no chips in this game.

 

Zelda frowns as she finally speaks, “Is Farore really so unlovable in this state?” She turns to Link. With a little grooming and training, he could have some potential, but his lack of voice remained.

 

Ganon pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and opens his mouth to speak again, “He cannot speak. I do not believe he can write without divine intervention. He is weak. He has no temple or priests to shelter him from the outcry against him. I am honestly amazed he even made it here. Farore picked wrong. Surely there were better-”

 

“Silence.” Din’s voice rolls through him like a stampede, “She made her decision, and you will accept it.”  _ If she picked him, it was for a reason. That man lost his voice for her. I love her regardless of sweet words or whispers.  _

 

A vessel is nothing without it's voice, Ganon howls to himself. Sitting at his kitchen table is an axe without an edge, a wheel without a spoke.

 

_ I have loved her 4000 years as she picked my sister over me again and again. We will protect her even in her most broken state lest you forget Christa. _

 

Ganon only wished he could forget Christa.

 

“If your vessel does not want to host the man, then I gladly will.” Nayru begins, “My temple could easily provide him with sources and guides on how to be a vessel.”

 

Link continues to chew, but shakes his head. No, no. He’s not doing any of this High Priest stuff and certainly not with Nayru who has carved out his mouth. “Well, then what are you going to do?” Ganon asks.

 

Link takes both their hands. The two look at him in surprise. Zelda is curious; Ganon annoyed as the room melts around them into all white. Zelda’s blood is thrumming in her ears. Ganon’s skin feels too hot. They are walking and empty steps in the void around them becomes the crunch of sand on a river bank. Water pours down in a waterfall in front of them. There is a small podium in the pond below that flows into the river. Green leaves filter out sunlight overhead, but the air is humid regardless of the mist coming off the river. Ganon and Zelda immediately recognize this place. It was the Ascencia sight near Creitia. Link shows them Farore emerging from her vessel as a flower emerges from the ground in spring. There's more. There's so much more to show them.

 

Zelda is aware that it's a spell, and she and Ganon posses resistance to the wear and tear of magic past most mortals. Ganon doesn't really care all that much about it being magic or not. He only uses powers of the natural kind. This beyond the realm stuff is too messy. Usually. What they're being shown is arcana of the highest kind. Spells of old in this magnitude had been lost over to the ages before they had the chance to be written down. The first vessels kept no books, just oral stories. They'd had much more ability and time back then to focus and fine tune their goddess's powers. Over the years, magic had trickled away becoming fainter and harder to use. The side effects of using impure spells is what causes the body to burn up and melt the mind. This is not impure magic. The burning is not from unrefinement but from intensity. Zelda feels as if rattlesnake venom is spreading through her veins.

 

Link starts to take them somewhere else, Creitia, something past the city, but Ganon rips his hand away, clutching his heart, and Zelda does much the same gasping for air. The spell is shattered, and Link looks to them in confusion, reaching out to help them. Zelda flinches at the contact but Link is no longer is wrapping them in illusion. “Why?” Ganon croaks, pouring himself some of the water meant for Link and swallowing it hungrily, “Why didn't you tell us you could use magic like that?” Not being able to talk and write…  Link could have used this magic earlier to let Ganon know these things .

 

“Such an advanced spell, and without being spoken, I've only just gotten to that level and I've had years of practice while under Nayru.” Zelda doesn't know what to think. Farore had clearly chosen him for a reason, and that may have been his immense aptitude for magic. “That didn’t hurt you?”

 

Link shakes his head, no, but he knew it hurt normal people. He figured with them all being vessels, that they'd be fine. “He has trouble navigating lives. He must be immensely close to Farore.” Ganon pities him more than he's impressed. One could open themselves up to the goddesses more than the vessels already had, but each moment of divine intervention took something away from the vessel. There had been Nayru’s vessels all seeing, but they had no emotion. They were merely bodies who spoke. There had been Goddess of Power’s generals, but they knew not the value of a human life anymore. They were no more than an iron boar on a rampage. For Courage, he wonders what Farore takes from him each time she moves him. Each time she shows herself. Does Link even know something might be missing? 

 

“You want to go to the Ascencia site and set Farore free so she can reposition herself in the celestial realm.” Zelda takes a guess at speaking for him and he nods, “You do know that involves dying, right?”

 

_ Sweeter words, Zelda. Don't make it sound so vulgar. _

 

Death wasn't some beautiful thing, she doesn't know who Nayru was trying to fool. She’s seen Ascencia. It is anything but some delicate ordeal. 

 

Link doesn't seem to be listening. His eyes are vacant as his body stammers. The tang of magic is  leaking off of him again, and it seems like two flavors fill the air. Zelda doesn't know what to do, and Ganon only reflexively reaches out to keep Link from dropping back and crashing his body against the table. The redhead looks to her eerily calm, “After the day he’s had, I suppose it's been all too much.” His voice is soft, but his muscles flex hard to lift the body and move the blond to his bed. “A spell that big seems like it could take a lot of energy.” He murmurs, looking at the dainty man in his arms. Link is more than he looks, and Ganon finds himself intrigued and tempted to find out just how strong that magic can be.

 

Zelda pauses, “It didn’t feel like a spell, though. I mean, it was.” There was no other explanation, “For a moment, it felt like we were really there.” There was the rush of the water. The cool wind blew through her hair, and she could taste the musk of river water. The birds were all around them. The world had felt new, and now being here in this room, it felt like she was looking at life through long worn glasses. 

 

Ganon doesn't know much about high arcana. His magic is all thunderstorms and harvest related, but he closes the door to let Link rest. He is begrudgingly impressed, but more subtly than that, happy to be wrong about what he had said about the blond.“The vessel on the podium, did you recognize them?”

 

“That was Wera.” Nayru states with belief beyond a doubt, “Farore’s second vessel. That is why there are no temple followers yet as spectators to the Ascencia. Farore came to Hyrule and bonded with the humans before us. She was the boldest of us, and our leader in this mortal experience. It was only after we came down that she suggested  we build the temples as tribute and reward ourselves for what we had created. ”

 

Din agrees, “I'm sure if you look back to the first vessels, you might remember some of the kinds of conversations we had about forming the temples. It was not some ruse to enslave you all. Just a system of organization for ourselves.”

 

Ganon shakes his head, “That is not where I am going with this.” He looks at Zelda, “In all of your memories, any of them, have you been outside your body?” 

 

There is silence.

 

“Let me ask the question differently. How could Link know what his own Ascencia looked like from that river bank without another vessel being there.”

 

Zelda struggles to think of an answer, “It was an illusion, Ganon. It wasn't necessarily accurate. He was showing us what he wanted us to see. He could have conjured the idea easily enough.”

 

Ganon doesn't seem to buy this answer. The puzzle pieces there do not fit, but there truly is no better answer. Link does not seem to bare them ill will or harm, and he is their brother, foreign or not. “That illusion was supposed to be a memory, right?”

 

“No, no. I think it was to show the landscape. If it was to be a memory, I think you're right, we would have been in first person.” She is excited at this glimpse of strong magic. Real magic. Not this healing, mending medicine she performs on temple goers. Not alchemy or  enchantment . This was a full immersive dream vision. She has to know more. “I think it is best for now if he stays the night with you, but if you'd like, I can take him tomorrow.”

 

“That is not our decision to make.” Ganon and Din both speak in unison, “Do not take his choice away from him.”

 

The boom of that edict makes Zelda reconsider, and both her and Nayru respond, “You are right. We will no longer play this game of tug of war. We will let Link and Farore decide where they desire to be until we can help them build their temple.”  _ Although, I'm sure he'll quickly realize he wants to be with us.  _ Zelda resists the temptation to giggle. “Ganon, brother dearest, when he wakes up do try to be tender? Don't send him packing like you do your priestesses. I know he’s a little different from what you're used to having in your bed, but do try to be sensitive for once.”

 

Ganon struggles to form a sentence for a second because he had plans to sleep on a  pallet , so this jab blindsides him, “If you think your thinly veiled pin pricks at my sexuality will have me relent and release him into your custody, Sister, you do not know me at all. He is a warrior come home, and I do concede, I was wrong about him. I am sorry about what I said about him being weak and useless, and… and even if he was, I suppose it would be my job to protect him.”

 

“Ganon, I was just joking.” Zelda frowns, eyes a bit sad as she watches is his face run a race of emotion, “We will both have plenty of time to get to know him and let him have his choice on who he favors. There is no shame if you decide to take him as a lover, or any man, as your lover. You know that right? I did not mean to evoke a rise from you.”

 

Ganon looks out the window at the night sky and the dark city. Crickets chirp in the background, “It's not so much that.” He has had some unwanted reactions with Link to things that any other man doing he simply would have ignored, but that wasn't the point. “I just...I feel guilty.” He confesses, “When I found Link he was dehydrated and near death in my prison. I thought him a heretic and went into the cell in a blind rage. I was choking him. I was going to kill him.”  He runs a tired hand over his face and groans, “And I realized what I had done almost too late. I'm sure had he a voice, he couldn't use it now from pain. To make it up to him, I will make sure no one pressures him into anything. He will have the run of the city under me if he so chooses . I owe him.”

 

Zelda had noticed the bruises on the man's throat, but she didn't realize that they were by Ganon’s hands, “Ah, I see.” She perches on her next words carefully, “Ganon, Link will be with us a long time. If you make time and effort to make an apology, I see it in his nature to forgive you.” The blonde advises him gently, laying a hand on his large forearm which leads into a clenching fist. The fist relaxes hesitantly. 

 

Ganon sighs, “He already seems over it, but that’s what concerns me more.”

 

“Why?” Asks Zelda turning his head so he finally looks at her instead of boring into the table.

 

There are some lingering emotions in these moments, where she wishes she could comfort him as more than a friend, but her magnetic attraction to Link already can't be ignored, and Ganon feels the same. He is tired. She sees it in his eyes as he opens thick dark lips which uncharacteristically choose to speak softly, “How hard must a life be to forgive a man almost killing you instantly? Not even Farore in all her might can swing a heart that much. He just looked at me with such horror, and like a beat dog, as soon as he was washed and fed, he seemed to trust me. I cannot wish that sort of life upon anyone.”

 

Zelda finds the redhead's conclusions to be supported as well from her observations. “We've never been allowed pets.” She teases him, trying to lift his spirits minutely in her whispers. Pink lips turn up, hinting at a smile, “So I guess a little brother will have to do.”

  
Those hazel eyes still reflect so much sorrow, but he repeats her with a waiver of relief to his depression, “I guess he will have to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta itsybitsy

Ganon is rummaging through the past, and Ordon is all smooth words and soft smiles. He taunts them, and like a bear to honey, they just keep coming back regardless of if they get stung. The past that has led him here to these thoughts is fresh and belongs to him. It is the redhead’s own past too that makes him wonder how he ended up looking at the freckled face of Farore’s vessel as he dresses himself. Pallet now tucked away in the corner, he is surprised Link is still sleeping so soundly despite the rustling of fabric and the slide of his wooden dresser drawers. He doesn't want the blond to wake up uncomfortable to his partial nudity, so he shakes himself from his thoughts and continues pinning the fabric swiftly.

 

Ganon has always been a part of the temple of Din. Seeing himself  stand tall in black and gold is only natural at this point. Much like his earrings or the necklace he wears, he knows that he has always been an accessory to the temple as an altar boy running errands or cleaning until the time came for him to be a priest. When he'd turned fourteen, he'd been impressed into the faith by his father as a sign of tribute to the temple for the success of his practice. He had a rich childhood although wealth mattered very little since there was no ruling class. If abused, the money would be seized by the goddesses, so everyone was quite generous with what they had.

 

At sixteen, he was given an option to exit the temple as it was unfair to keep him. The choice was clear to him that he might leave. He wasn't interested in meeting the next vessel who would take the place of Xelm. The old man had been a stronghold, but age had eaten away at him as water did stone walls until the man had begun to crumble. He was somewhat of a father figure to the young man for the two years he had been there, and to watch his Ascencia would be too much pain for Ganon.

 

As much as Ascencia might seem to be a pretty word suggesting a peaceful death of sinking into a pool of cold water surrounded by pond lilies, it was quite the opposite. To go to the heavens, one would have to go up with the Goddess. The Goddesses were able to do such a thing by melding themselves into a vessel's soul over the period of their life. By the end, the human’s life force and the Goddess’ were almost one and the same, so when Din headed up with Xelm, they would divide and Din would head back down. Terrifying might be a better way to describe an Ascencia. A human body would be ripped to shreds, disappearing in a screaming bright light, and all that might be found on the stone podium was a few bones and melted fat. 

 

No, Ganon had no interest in sticking around to see any of that, he thought packing up the last of his room. But he didn't get the choice he wanted: Xelm stopped him before he could leave and took the forearm of the boy, turning to see his left hand. There was the mark of the triforce glowing in gold like seven suns and Xelm smiled so sadly. Smiling like he'd condemned the boy to a slow death, “People like us aren't meant for this.” He croaked before coughing a bit, “But you have a choice now Ganon, you can run on to freedom and make your own fate as a man, independent, only be seen as yourself, or you can be Din for the rest of your life. You can keep orphans safe. You can house the women who have been beaten. You can be the wall of the city.” He sat on the young man’s cot to rest.

 

“But you won't be seen, and they'll never know it was all you. It will  always you beneath her .” Xelm’s voice was a whisper in the small cell of Ganon’s room. A whisper in the small cell of the temple that Ganon by fate was now chained to.

 

He doesn't speak. He doesn't speak for the longest time before responding to Xelm . Ganon remembers that as he looks at Link sleeping beside him in the bed. It hadn't mattered how long it took the redhead to reply to the old man, they both had known the answer, and here he is  all those  years later. Those unspoken words had evoked a road that had led him to where he was today. This day would lead into the next, and the next, and then death. The death of the living.

 

Link breathes like a bird in his bed: chest rising and small coos escaping him. Ganon feels that by looking at him, he's remembered something about himself. He had always liked to protect the weak. He had wanted to leave the temple to build a practice as a doctor like his father. He'd wanted to gain knowledge and help people. There was power in saving people from death, but he had abandoned  that man who would have made a quiet life for himself. That man would have had a wife (just one) and been a father (not a sire). He can see that life parallel to  his own within his inner heart, and reaching out, he wants to tear down the wall that separates the two brick by brick. How had he become so warped after all these years? Ganon in the now is a symbol of justice, of fear, and of course the symbol of progress and protection. Yet he sees himself as a monster. One given too much power that by the blink of an eye might be allowed to murder someone without a second glance from the people. One could not be Din without being a double edged blade. Yet seeing that other life, he yearns for more tender moments and less of all this law and order. Less of all this corruption.

 

For the people, he must be the  backbone of the city, supporting everything and everyone, and he knows that the same way he knows that Link has to walk his road to an Ascencia eventually. Ganon rests his head in his hands; these next few days will be tiring for him. Already he seeks to  rectify  his mistakes, and  Ganon  wonders how much Link actually knows about what he’s doing. He didn't exactly seem to be a man with a plan. That devil may care attitude wouldn't fly for long between Ganon and Zelda. There was  a daily duty and responsibility to the people they both had , so they wouldn't be able to humor Link for long if he chose to be difficult.

 

Link’s eyes are startling to him when the other turns over, and he feels trapped into being the High Priest. He straightens himself some as he adjusts his robes, and Link laughs. It's a rich sound and one of the few things his injury has not taken away from him. Ganon wonders why he laughs, but when Link reaches a hand out from beneath the covers to tell him to relax, it's okay, he knows that he’s human, the redhead flushes. “What is that for?” He doesn't wish to take the hand again at risk of being transported.

 

Blue eyes continue to read his face, and sitting up, Link’s hair is a tangled mess behind him as he begins to wake up. He drops the hand and whatever intentions might have been seeded there. There is a long stretch and yawn. There are slivers of pale flesh revealed, and Ganon can't help but devour the sight. “Come here.” He gruffs deciding that he is full, “Don't your people know how to dress hair?” His hands are rough on the smaller man’s shoulders, and it's too early for Link to take offense at the remark. Yanking Link to the seat in front of the vanity mirror, Ganon takes a picked comb and begins to sort through fine, soft hair to busy his mind away. Braiding it tigh t  as Zelda would wear her’s, Link now looks more feminine than a man should be allowed to be. With that thought, Ganon stands back and lets Link inspect his work. 

 

Link’s mind is anywhere but on his hair. He offers a simple smile to Ganon who seems to accept that payment, but when the large redhead turns away to head out to the kitchen, his mouth drops. Without his voice, he is isolated, and he knows that in his isolation Farore will grow like vines over an old house until desolation is left and nature consumes what is of men.  A nother day of solitude surrounded by people who want nothing more but to be his company. Ganon sees his past reflected in that mirror. Like Zelda, he knows Ordon from past lives stitched together by Din. Those blue eyes that catch his again have him trying to make connections between all these bits and pieces seeping to the surface of his consciousness.

 

There is a man standing behind him in the line of past lives, and his name is Umi. He’s tall and broad like Ganon. Black hair. Black eyes. Black skin. He’s one of the first lives. He’s still young and fresh to all this. Stumbling through the forest, he comes upon the edge of a spiraling swamp. They say there's a witch who can tell you anything you want to know in the belly of the marsh. Din and Nayru may be powerful, but they're not all knowing. They only created everything together. Alone, their power is limited, and Umi needs to know. He needs something magical beyond this realm to save his mother. The monsters that haunt this land had found her and bitten into her poisoning her blood. He had asked Din why the monsters were created with Hyrule, but _That was the price we paid for creating all of this. Light cannot come without dark._ In that murky swamp, he sees blue eyes. Blue eyes and a blue robe. 

 

Whoever this witch is, they have the answers. When Umi asks, he is  told something as a whisper so faint that the words disappear in the green filtered sunlight of the trees. Ganon tries hard to remember what was said, but something around the edges of  that past life is static now. The memory is blanked out and smudged away.

 

Ganon feels clearly blocked, so he leaves those thoughts and shuffles on. By now, the monsters have been hunted to near extinction, and Ganon is grateful for that. It's been three years since even a small one had been spotted. Din, the redhead asks, what was before this? Before Hyrule?

 

Din sighs, he hears it echo in his soul,  _ Are you sure you wish to see? It is hard for the human mind to process. _

 

I want to see. He is unsure of what he is committing to as he takes a seat at his small kitchen table. Visions of before creation might be the key to some of these lingering questions. They’ve taunted him for a long time. He’s not the first vessel to want to know. “Show me your life before Hyrule.” 

 

Silence.

 

Everything is cold, but he can't feel it. He just knows there's a lack. A lack of a body. A lack of senses. There isn't anything but Din and Nayru. _It's so dark_ , he thinks, _or no, maybe it's just every color at once._ Colors that exist beyond what a human can see. He already feels his mind begin to warp. Din is a bright red light in this whirlpool of nothing. Nayru is a blur of blue. And Farore. 

 

There is no Farore. He can't process the amount of time but there is nothing but Din and Nayru until green appears from nothing. And in a moment, she invents language. She shows them images of what they could have. And these celestial beings beyond the realm of the human mind make something from nothing. He is suddenly roped in from the other realm and the whiplash of having a body again makes him vomit.

 

“Stop.” He hears it in his stomach, and Ganon opens his eyes. He hadn't even realized they were closed or that his nose was bleeding. Link’s eyes are hard in front of him and with fluid practiced hand motions he’s never seen before, he feels Din pushed back. His brain, which feels like he’s been struck at the base of the skull by the butt of a sword and is dripping out his mouth, is rewound. The infinity is sealed away for a moment. He feels like Umi in the swamp: panicked and more unsure now that he had been told the truth.

 

It's dusk outside. The sun is setting, and he looks at Link in shock. “Was I just sitting here?”

 

Link shakes his head no. He hadn’t seen Ganon when he exited the bedroom and had thought nothing of it. No, all that had remained from being taken to the celestial realm of the past was a hint of a human soul, and like a piece of paper, it started to burn at the edges until it had worryingly moved to the middle. The blond is sure that if he had not noticed the silvery tear drop sitting in the chair and intervened, Ganon would have had nothing left. You fool, he wishes to say, the redhead by knowing the inhuman has become closer to Din and will find that in a matter of a day, he has lost much of what makes him a man. Sadly, Link just gives the other a sympathetic smile. Ganon will discover his losses later. Link undoes his hair and lets it fall about his slender shoulders again. His face is still hard, jaw squared.

 

“What did you do all day when I was gone?” The redhead's voice has a threatening edge it had lacked before and Link looks back at him as he moves toward the bed. Somewhere in his mind, he knows that he could fix what Ganon has lost, but it's a hazy thought so faint that it vanishes like a wisp of smoke. He makes a hand sign that Ganon recognizes as Nayru, and he figures Link must have gone over to Zelda’s. He spits out in frustration. “I didn't need your help. Din would have released me. I'm not the first one to want to see.” Maybe she would have released him. He actually doubts that statement. She might have spun him out of control. She might have swallowed him up.

 

Blue eyes. The eyes of the swamp, they see right through him. They know the truth. He hears everything without Link speaking, and it's a voice he’s heard before. The one that pours from the marsh, “I'll always come for you when you need me. I’ll always rescue you even when you don't want my help.” These are words for Umi, and maybe Ganon. The Demise of the past uncovers the rest of the memory for him and lets him in. Yet he doesn't get to see much more. The man in blue robes is rocking him with a humming lullaby and a smug smile. The redhead's body grows sluggish and before he can resist the spell, Link has led him to the bedroom and pushed him back into the bed. The words ring in his mind like a bell through his very core. I’ll always rescue you, Demise had said. Rescue him from what? 

 

A tired mind doesn't find an answer.

 

~~~~

 

Zelda doesn't know how to say it, but Ganon seems thinner. Not physically. He looks the same as he always has, stronger even if that's possible. He just looks like if he turns the right way when the light hits him he might disappear. Link watches her for a moment before standing and heading to the counter where he begins opening jars until he finds what he wants. Bringing the flour back to the table, he pours it out before taking one of Ganon’s rings silently. The large man grunts as he hesitantly let's Link slide it with a bit of force over his large knuckles, “What are you doing?” Zelda asks and Link simply hums and traces symbols the blonde can't recognize around the ring in spilled flour on the table. Magic, she thinks. It's not magic she's ever seen before. Maybe Link is pulling from old past lives before Din and Nayru. He hands the ring back to Ganon. The redhead eyes it and his kitchen table  now covered in flour with a foreign alphabet on it with distrust.

 

“Put it on.” Zelda tells him. 

 

She knows that Link is Farore. That part isn't doubted. She can see her like an image behind a stained glass window. Blurry but she's there. Now she's trying to see the stained glass window for all its parts. “Ganon, it's a gift from Link, put it on. Don't be rude.”

 

“You have no clue what this ring could do to me.”

 

“If it does what I think it's going to do, only good will come of it.” Her voice is sharp.

 

His is a snake with fangs ready as he murmurs, “You don't control me. I don't have to accept this.” He has had enough of this magic garbage in a week for the rest of his life. This wasn't two thousand years ago. This arcana didn’t just happen. If Zelda tries to gives him one more order, he’ll show her who is in control. 

 

But he puts it on, and whatever shawl was hanging over him is lifted, and Zelda feels like he isn't translucent and fading away anymore. “How do you feel?” 

 

“Better, I guess. I don't know what happened.” He stammers, flexing his hands. Link is flitting around, cleaning up the flour. “Enchantment?”

 

“Of a sort.” Zelda confirms, “Until you explain what happened, I wouldn't take it off.”

 

He pauses, “I asked to see the past, and I saw too much of what was before Hyrule. I know now that for mortals, it is...too much. It is without form, shape, or design. It is...nothingness.” Ganon shivers at the memory and looks to Link.

 

“I had wanted to see because I had thought of Umi, and how the vessel of Ordon can create life just like Din, Nayru, and Farore. Although, since he is Demise, I still do not understand how he creates and does not destroy.”

 

“He creates from the darkness.” Nayru answers through Zelda, “And seeks to destroy us. Destroy all we built.” 

 

Ganon squints, but Din and Nayru, how much did they build compared to Farore? When she appeared, she already seemed to have so much. Almost as if… “Nayru,” Because he knows Din does not know as the younger one, “Are there other gods? Other worlds besides from this one?”

 

Zelda feels her stomach and heart clench as if her ribcage is being played like an accordion, “Yes. There are other versions of this realm.”

 

“Farore and Ordon...did they come from one of these realms?” He asks.

 

Din seems to shiver as if she'd never thought to ask, “Are we not alone, sister?”

 

“I believe we are a form of people. There are few of us, and we cannot talk or see one another without ripping through a realm. I believe Ordon and Farore are of our people  but only Farore can confirm that. I never have needed to know. It did not matter to me where she came from when began to create. I was happy to help her and rope Din into it as well. I did not ever think we'd interact with our creations. I only sought to spectate.”

 

Zelda turns to Link, “Is Farore...an Old God?”

 

He does not know, but she tells him yes, so he nods. “Ah,” Ganon collects this information, “Then she must have come, fleeing Ordon. That's the only reason a goddess would leave a realm.” He surmises.   


Link nods again. 

 

The blond feels lost. Like he should have more memories of who he was and where he has been. Shouldn’t Link have past lives to pull from? All he can see is the framework of film, not the movies themselves. He spins in and out of lives, but they don't always feel like they're his. It's like trying on someone else's clothes who is four inches taller. Almost, but, not quite.

 

Farore seems to rearrange some things again. His mind always feels like spring cleaning. Like memories are trash being taken out to the curb, which he hates. Those are  _ his.  _ He doesn't mean to be possessive, since they share the same self, but he feels lost without them. He feels like a horse and Farore has the bit in his mouth as long he lacks those memories.

 

_ Ah, do not worry, child. I will always lead us to success, sometimes you must trust me and what I want to reveal. _

 

And with what she does show him, he suspects that those memories don't always show the truth. He should know more concretely who he is. What his part in all of this is. Why he left all those happy memories behind. It always feels like Farore is watering the past down for him. Hiding things. Link frowns as the other two continue to talk in front of him. He has to ask himself:

 

How much of any of this is real?

  
  



End file.
